Blue is the New Red
by CanaryCry
Summary: Nightwing has finally recovered enough from his recent traumatic experiences to rejoin the Team, but he finds the events of the past two years aren't quite done with him yet. Sequel to Nightwing: Under the Red Hood. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Return

**A/N: Hey, guys. That issue I was having with being unable to use the rich text editor seems to have been resolved, so I'm going to start posting stories again. This one is the sequel to Nightwing: Under the Red Hood, so read that first. I categorised it as a crossover so you might not have seen it, but you can find it on my author page.**

Blüdhaven had a particular scent, especially near the docks, a stench of rotten fish that seemed to permeate clothing and hair and follow you home. Nightwing was perched on a warehouse near the docks, nostrils burning as he shifted his weight to find a comfortable position that accommodated the bow and quiver on his back. He was under orders to remain unseen unless absolutely necessary, so having weaponry that could be used reliably from a distance was more important than his comfort.

The team had split up to search the warehouses along the docks, which made Nightwing's assignment a little more difficult, given the team was as of yet unaware of him. He spotted Kid Flash's vibrant red hair for a moment before he disappeared indoors with Artemis and Rocket. Robin was with Zatanna and Superboy. Nightwing was glad the two weren't together, since they were the only ones aware of his assignment. The more spread out they were, the more likely he was to be alerted if his assistance was needed. He left them to it and shadowed Aqualad and Miss Martian. The team's use of Miss Martian's psychic abilities rather than a traditional com link also added complications to this assignment, but at least he had been prepared for that one. Robin and Kid Flash would use the comm link to summon him if needed.

The team had been investigating a people-smuggling ring Batman had brought to their attention. According to Kid Flash, it had seemed like a fairly simple mission. The smugglers were plucking people off the streets, mostly working-class or homeless children who wouldn't be missed, but many of the kidnappings had been caught on security camera footage. Batman and the team had believed the smugglers weren't particularly capable. They had been wrong.

The team had discovered while investigating an old house suspected of housing some of the stolen children that they had inadvertently tipped the smugglers off and further endangered their victims. The smugglers had moved the children and it had taken every ounce of Batman and Robin's combined detective skills to find them again. The team was now racing against time to find the kids before they were executed.

Unfortunately, Batman suspected the smugglers had information on their pursuers and knew exactly who was coming for them. That's where Nightwing came in; he was the wildcard, barely more than a rumour even within Gotham. That would change tonight if things got dicey and Nightwing had to step in. Batman had ordered him to maintain cover unless absolutely necessary, but, honestly, Nightwing was hoping the opportunity to reveal himself would arise. It didn't get much more dramatic than a formerly-dead teammate appearing in the heat of battle to save the day.

"We're not going to find anything here," came Robin's voice through the comm. Both he and Kid Flash had set their communicators to automatically transmit to Nightwing's.

"We've got ten of these to search," Superboy replied. "Quit complaining."

"If there were people in this one, you would've heard them already," Robin said irritably. The two continued bickering while Nightwing found a good vantage point to watch Aqualad and Miss Martian. He couldn't actually see them without going inside, but he was close enough that he'd notice if a fight started. Such an event was unlikely. Dockside warehouses tended to be more conspicuous than their inner-city counterparts where kidnappers could hide their victims far more easily. Victims were usually taken to the docks to be killed and dumped. The bodies would wash up days or even weeks later, usually far from the site of their murders.

Nightwing shook off that morbid line of thinking when Aqualad and Miss Martian emerged, having clearly found nothing of interest. Nightwing watched the team search the rest of the warehouses, predictably coming up empty, before they reconvened by the water in a very exposed spot that made Nightwing want to smack the lot of them. Blüdhaven wasn't that far from Gotham—a half-hour drive in good traffic—and there was always the possibility that these smugglers had hired Gotham muscle. Gotham crooks had a very particular mean streak.

Getting as close as he could without alerting Superboy, Nightwing listened through the comm as the team debated their next move. Aqualad was in favour of splitting into small teams to cover the remaining dock areas while Robin was arguing, clearly having listened to Batman's lessons every once in a while, that the team should head for the furthest area of the docks where the smugglers were probably lining up their victims. The idea had some merit, though Nightwing himself would have suggested sending Miss Martian to check before sending the whole team anywhere, but Robin's trouble integrating with the team was causing some problems. Superboy, who under normal circumstances would probably have liked the idea, immediately sided with Aqualad, who noticed the tension between the two operatives.

"Perhaps it would be wise to send Miss Martian ahead while the rest of us search the more immediate area," he said. Nightwing nearly punched the air.

Before a decision could be made, however, Nightwing noticed bubbles in the water. He was about to shout a warning when an enormous scaly creature surged onto the dock, ripping the bow from Artemis' hand and nearly taking her arm with it. The team scattered, Artemis getting the quiver torn from her back in the process.

"Ah, shit," breathed Kid Flash.

Killer Croc took a swipe at Miss Martian, who soared out of the way. Nightwing took an explosive arrow out of his quiver and set the notch on the bowstring, ready to intervene. Kid Flash was zipping in and out of Croc's reach, running interference while the rest of the team pulled themselves together. Aqualad funnelled water from the bay to slap Croc in the face, but he barely flinched. Robin's small explosives were even less effective and Zatanna didn't have time to get out a spell before she was thrown against the nearest wall and knocked out cold.

"Fuck it," Nightwing muttered, bringing up his bow. Kid Flash was in his infiltration colours, so Nightwing had to rely on his hair to see him as he sped around Croc, trying to distract him while Superboy tried to get a few hits in. Croc opened his mouth to snap at Kid Flash as he zipped past and Dick loosed the arrow, which landed under Croc's tongue and exploded, throwing him back into the water.

Nightwing leapt from the warehouse rooftop onto the ground, preparing another arrow. The bubbles in the water disappeared. Croc had swum away to nurse his sounds.

Zatanna let out a groan nearby. Nightwing knelt by her side.

Zatanna blinked dazedly. "Robin?"

"You're two years late," Nightwing said wryly. "It's Nightwing now. How's your head?"

"I think I'm hallucinating," she replied, pressing a hand to her eyes.

"Hey, Kid Flash," Nightwing said. "Am I real?"

"That explosion you set off felt pretty damn real," Kid Flash replied, wrinkling his nose. "I think I smell cooked crocodile. Is he dead?"

"I doubt it. Batman made him eat a grenade once."

"Okay, I get it," Zatanna interrupted, letting Nightwing help her to her feet. "You're real."

"What the hell just happened?" Superboy interjected.

"Robin came back to life and now he's Nightwing," Kid Flash said. "And uses a bow, apparently."

Nightwing held the bow out to Artemis. "Artemis is still a better archer. I needed something that had range potential and Batman wasn't about to let me use a gun, even with rubber bullets."

Artemis took the bow, pulling back the string. "Not bad, Zombie Wonder. Does Batman take special orders?"

"You can have that one. You'll get more use out of it." Nightwing unlatched the quiver from his back and tossed it to her. "I tried to keep the arrow positioning similar to yours but you might want to do an inventory check."

"What are you doing here?" Superboy demanded, stepping in front of Miss Martian as if she couldn't defend herself.

"Batman's orders," Nightwing replied. "He wanted me to tail you guys and only reveal myself if you needed help. Kid Flash and Robin can vouch for me if you're worried."

"It's really him," Kid Flash added. "Batman probably ran about twenty tests when we got him home. He's not a clone or an alien or… I don't know… a smoke monster."

"Look, we don't have time for this," said Nightwing. "We have to save the hostages. Killer Croc will probably show up again so we need to get away from the water."

"But—"

"We can argue about whether I'm the real deal or not later," Nightwing snapped. "Hell, I'll let Miss M read my mind later if that's what it'll take. But for now, you're going to have to trust me."

"Nightwing is correct," Aqualad said at last. "Miss Martian, we'll make our way toward the docks while you fly ahead. Connect Nightwing to the psychic link before you go."

**"Link established."** Miss Martian soared away. She'd finally started wearing pants instead of a skirt while flying, but her hair was long as ever.

"Are we still splitting up?" Rocket asked Aqualad.

"If Miss Martian does not locate the hostages," Aqualad replied. "We can make the decision after she reports back."

"Picking groups now will save time," Nightwing suggested.

Superboy scowled. "Not even back five minutes and you're already giving orders."

"He just saved our asses," Kid Flash snapped. "I think he's got the right to make a few suggestions."

"Enough," Aqualad said firmly. "Nightwing, can you work with Robin?"

"Sure thing." Nightwing didn't miss the implications of the question. "Are we going to work in groups of three? With me here, we've got nine people."

"Take Kid Flash," Aqualad said. "Superboy, Rocket and Zatanna will make the next group. I will join Artemis and Miss Martian. Any objections?"

"We're good," Artemis replied. "So, Nightwing, you're not dead anymore."

"Thank you for noticing," Nightwing said lightly. Kid Flash snickered beside him.

"How did that even happen?"

"We can talk about it later when we don't have hostages to save," Nightwing replied, effectively ending the discussion.

**"I found the hostages,"** Miss Martian said through the psychic link. **"They're exactly where Robin said they would be."**

**"Told you so."**

"Shut up," Superboy groaned aloud.

**"Focus on the mission,"** Aqualad chastised, leading the team forward. **"How many children?"**

**"Ten,"** Miss Martian replied. **"There are fifteen bad guys. They made the kids kneel in a line near the water."**

**"Son of a bitch,"** Nightwing interjected, picking up the pace. **"They're going to start shooting them any moment."**

**"Kid Flash, Superboy, Rocket, go on ahead,"** Aqualad ordered, working up to a run. **"Miss Martian, join them as soon as they start their attack. The rest of us will arrive as soon as we can."**

"We're taking a huge risk," Nightwing said, matching the team leader's pace. "I've read your reports. These guys are smarter than the average thug and they have Killer Croc on side. This could get messy."

"Agreed," said Aqualad. **"Stay as far from the water as possible. Zatanna, Artemis, Miss Martian, Rocket, hang back if possible and fight from a distance."**

**"We've arrived at the dock,"** said Rocket. **"Whoa!"**

**"Hang in there,"** replied Nightwing. **"We're coming."**

**"Rocket, try to protect the children,"** Aqualad ordered.

**"On it. Superboy's already taken three guys out."**

**"Save some of the bad guys for us,"** Nightwing teased.

**"You already got Killer Croc,"** Kid Flash replied. **"Let the little guys get some glory."**

**"Just concentrate on where you're running before you get another nosebleed."**

Nightwing and the others finally arrived at the dock to find the battle in full-swing. Rocket was in the process of moving the hostages onto solid ground, encased in a forcefield. The others were running interference to stop the smugglers from attacking her while she was vulnerable.

A carefully-placed arrow from Artemis had another three smugglers trapped in polyurethane foam, leaving only nine more to take out. A gunshot narrowly missed Robin, who sidestepped just in time. Nightwing drew his escrima and knocked the pistol out of the man's hand before taking him down with a kick to the back of the knees and a strike at the base of his skull.

"Thanks."

"Got your back, Little Wing."

Robin jabbed the nearest smugger in the gut. "Stop it." He followed up with a knockout punch. In the time it had taken them to fell two of the smugglers, the rest of the team had dealt with the rest. Kid Flash made quick work of tying them up before skidding to a stop at Nightwing's side.

"Heh. Barely broke a sweat."

"We should get the kids out of here before Killer Croc shows up again," said Nightwing. "Batman told me you guys have made an arrangement to meet up with the FBI at a designated location."

"We do," Aqualad replied. He approached the children, presumably to make sure they were calm and able to cooperate. While he did that, Nightwing watched the water for any signs of Killer Croc.

"Dude, you shot a bomb into his mouth," said Kid Flash. "I don't think he's coming back."

Nightwing heard the bubbles before he saw them. "You are no longer allowed to talk. **Guys, we might have another round with Killer Croc in a sec."**

**"Rocket, Miss Martian, get the children out of here now," **Aqualad ordered. "We'll meet you at the rendezvous point," he said aloud, unsheathing his water swords. They had barely disappeared from sight when a deluge of polluted seawater pummelled the rest of the team. Nightwing and Kid Flash barely managed to stay upright while Robin hit the deck beside them. They dragged the younger boy back when a pair of clawed hands swiped in his direction.

"Hey, Croc," Nightwing said lightly. "Did you miss me?"

Killer Croc finished his climb out onto the dock, brown water dripping from his scales. "Should've stayed dead, Robin."

"Yeah, enough with the Robin stuff okay? It's Nightwing. Why don't you go back to Gotham and tell everyone I'm back? Don't need to worry about Joker. I made sure he knows."

Croc snarled at him. "No. I'm gonna rip you in half."

"Well, that's not very nice, Crocky." Nightwing threw Kid Flash a sideways glance. **"He's probably gonna lunge at me in a moment. I'd appreciate it if you'd stop him while I still have internal organs."**

Croc snapped in his direction, but Superboy leapt over Nightwing to land a fist on his snout, sending Croc reeling backwards. Nightwing and Robin fell back.

**"We can't contain him,"** Nightwing said. **"I'll tell Batman he's around when we've driven him off."**

**"Very well,"** Aqualad replied, siphoning water from the bay. **"Superboy, Kid Flash, put him off balance. Zatanna, do something about his bite."**

**"On it,"** all three replied. Superboy lunged at Croc again while Kid Flash caught his attention.

"Elzzum Kellik Corc," said Zatanna, her arms outstretched. The spell hit its mark, binding Croc's jaw shut with a leather muzzle that wouldn't have been out of place on a dog.

**"Firing," **Artemis wanted before loosing an explosive arrow that, coupled with the force of Superboy's next punch, threw Killer Croc back into the water.

**"Let's get out of here before he shows his face again,"** Nightwing suggested, before pressing the communicator in his ear. "You there, Batman?"

"Yes."

"Killer Croc is here. We've driven him off but we don't have the resources to apprehend him."

"I'll alert the authorities," Batman replied, severing the link without another word.

The team began heading to the rendezvous point.

* * *

Batman was waiting for them in the mission room upon their return to Mount Justice. Nightwing hung back, taking in the familiar pale walls, the hint of leather in the air. He felt small, like the twelve-year-old who had first entered this place three years ago. His shoulders briefly seemed to hold the weight of the cape he had long since abandoned. It wasn't nostalgia, not exactly; the memories burned and nauseated him. The sickness had little to do with the memories themselves and everything to do with losing that feeling of comfort and belonging so long ago.

Kid Flash nudged him gently but remained silent. Aqualad was already recounting the events of the evening with occasional contributions from the others.

When they were finished, Wally, who by this time had removed his cowl, chimed in. "So, yeah. Good call having Nightwing stalk us. I think Artemis has claimed the bow, though, so I hope you didn't want it back."

"It's a nice bow, okay?"

"Keep it," said Batman.

Artemis blinked. "Oh! Uh. Wow. Thanks!"

"You're welcome," Batman replied in that weird deadpan tone he used when he wasn't sure how to handle a situation. "I'll head to Blüdhaven to assist with Killer Croc's capture." He beckoned for Nightwing and Robin to follow him as he made for the zeta tube.

"I'm going to stick around for a while," Nightwing told him. "I earned a few brownie points, but they still don't really trust me."

"Keep in mind what we discussed."

"Relax," Nightwing said slowly. "I'm revealing our identities, not divulging all our secrets."

"Unless you allow Miss Martian—"

"I'm not going to show her everything if it even comes to that," Nightwing cut him off. "We've already talked about this. You're going to have to start trusting me."

Those were the magic words. "Fine. Alfred will be expecting both of you for breakfast." He headed for the zeta tube without another word.

"Tell me your secret," Robin whispered as they headed for the living room, where most of the team had vanished to.

"Wait until he screws up massively and then milk it for all it's worth," Nightwing replied.

"Are you teaching Robin how to guilt-trip Batman?" Wally asked from the doorway.

"It's an important talent," Nightwing replied lightly. "I'd almost call it a survival skill."

"I'm not sure I should be taking survival tips from you of all people," Robin chimed in. Nightwing put him in a headlock, but let him go when he started to squirm. He'd be a pain-in-the-ass older brother later when there wasn't a room full of people waiting for an explanation.

The three boys finally entered area, where the team was already assembled. M'gann was making sandwiches in the adjacent kitchen with Artemis not-so-subtly supervising her.

"Hey," Nightwing said awkwardly to the room at large.

"Hey," Artemis said back. "Are you going to tell us how you kicked death in the balls yet?"

"Would death even _have_ balls?"

"Does it matter?" Conner interrupted, holding the remote aloft as Raquel tried to make a grab for it and ended up falling into his lap. Artemis laughed loudly at them while M'gann let out a soft giggle.

"I guess not." Nightwing perched on the edge of the nearest chair with Wally settling himself on the arm; Robin just flat-out threw himself on the floor. Wally grabbed three sandwiches the instant M'gann put the plate on the coffee table, handing one to Nightwing.

"You have our attention, Nightwing," Kaldur said.

"I guess I should start by, I don't know, sharing a few old secrets as a show of good faith." Nightwing took a bite of his sandwich, chewing slowly while he psyched himself up for what came next. "You guys remember the Haly's Circus mission? Well, Raquel and Robin won't because they weren't around back then." He took another bite.

"I wish I could've gone," Zatanna remarked.

"Get to the point, Nightwing," Conner demanded.

"In a minute. This is a mighty fine sandwich, M'gann." It seemed her cooking had improved… at least when it came to sandwiches.

The Martian blushed a little. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Nightwing threw her a cheesy grin that made Wally elbow him. "Anyway, those of you who were on the mission with me might've guessed I had a… personal investment in the case." He finished the sandwich. "I grew up there. I come from a family of circus acrobats, the Flying Graysons." He slid his fingers beneath his mask and pried it off.

M'gann actually squealed. "You're Richard Grayson! Oh my _God_… does that mean Bruce Wayne is Batman?"

"And Robin is my little brother, Jason Todd."

Jason pulled off his mask as well. "Hi."

"Called it," said Artemis. Wally made a rude noise at her.

M'gann squealed again, bouncing in her seat. "This is so… wow. I've always wanted to meet you!"

Now it was Dick's turn to blush, while Wally, Jason and Artemis all hastened to disabuse her of that notion.

"You really don't," said Artemis.

"No, really," Jason added. "He's not even that cool."

"He's a bit of a dick, to be honest," Wally said. Dick smacked him.

"My friends call me Dick," he explained.

"Worst nickname ever," said Wally.

"_Anyway_, I had to nag Bruce for a week before he agreed to let you guys in on our identities," Dick continued. "I don't think I need to tell you guys to keep this quiet. I get kidnapped enough as it is."

Jason sniggered. "Dick Grayson: Boy Hostage."

"Oh, please. You've had your fair share of kidnappings, too. It's like a rite of passage."

"As I don't have to die, too."

"Yeah, it's not very pleasant." Dick kept his tone deliberately light. "I wouldn't recommend it."

"Speaking of dying," Zatanna prodded, "how did you come back?"

"How much do you guys know about Ra's al Ghul?"

"He's one of Batman's pet bad guys, isn't he?" said Conner.

"Basically. Bruce and I were after him when we ran into the Joker in Sarajevo." Dick wasn't in the mood to give out the gory details. "Long story short, Ra's had hired him as a distraction and felt bad when I ended up dead. He's been using these things called Lazarus Pits to prolong his own life, so he tried throwing me into one to bring me back… and here I am." _Don't think about it don't think about it don't think—_

"Why'd he feel bad, though?" asked Zatanna. "I mean, doesn't he kill people all the time?"

"Ra's has a… warped sense of morality," Dick replied. "It wasn't part of his agreement with the Joker to kill me and, even if he'd wanted me dead, he would've skipped the whole torture part of the program. It also probably had something to do with the fact he deeply respects Bruce even though they're usually enemies. I was also a kid and, well, you know what they say about one death being a tragedy and multiple deaths being a statistic."

"Okay, fine," said Conner. "We get it. Where the hell were you these last two years?"

"Did he wait to bring you back?" Artemis added.

"No more than a month or two," Dick replied; he'd been dreading this line of questioning all night. "I can't say for sure. I haven't been able to nail down an exact timeline."

"So, why didn't you come back earlier?" Conner insisted. "What were you even doing?"

"I don't want to talk about," Dick replied. "The last two years were pretty rough. Let's leave it at that for now."

"How are we supposed to trust you if you won't—"

"For _now_," Dick repeated sharply. "That's not a never. I'll tell you when I have a handle on all of it myself. Bruce, Wally and Jason know about some of it. If you won't trust me, you could try trusting them."

"I'll vouch for him," Wally said immediately. "Let him deal with his shit first, okay? I'd like to see you go through what he's been through and then be all chatty about it."

"I think you made your point, Wally," Dick murmured. Finding a balance between treating him like glass and treating him like a tank that could take on everything in his path had been a difficult task for everyone he knew. Bruce tended toward the tank; Wally favoured the glass.

"Dick's all right," Jason added. "We got in a few fistfights at first but we're good now."

"I wouldn't call them fights," Dick said with a grin. "That would imply you actually had a chance against me."

"One day, Grayson. One day."

"Isn't he adorable?" Dick laughed when Jason made to punch him, deflecting his fist with his foot. "I'm still willing to let M'gann read my mind if I _have_ to, but I want to talk to her about some things first."

"Another day, perhaps," said Kaldur. "It is late and we should all rest. Welcome back to the Team, Richard. Now go home."

"Whatever you say, boss." Dick kicked Jason. "Come on, Little—"

"Not in front of the team," Jason complained.

"Whatever you say, Little Wing."

"Aww, Little Wing," said M'gann.

"No."

"C'mon, Jay." Dick slid onto the floor beside him and punched his shoulder.

"You're embarrassing me."

"It's a badge of honour," Wally chimed in. "You have no idea how many times Dick embarrassed me in front of the team in our first year."

"Oh, please," said Artemis. "You embarrassed yourself."

"He punched me a lot, too."

Jason snorted. "Did he pull your pigtails—hey!" Dick had elbowed him in the gut.

"Aren't we supposed to be going home?" he said pointedly. He tolerated Jason's teasing most of the time—encouraged it, really—but he drew the line at being outed in front of the team before he was ready.

"Sure, okay, whatever."

"Are you going to sleep over again?" Dick asked Wally. "Or did you want to go home?"

"I guess I should go home," Wally replied. "Let the folks know I'm still in one piece. That cool?"

"It's cool. See you tomorrow."

"Wait, Dick," said Zatanna. The smile she was giving him instantly made him feel like the worst person in the world.

"What is it, Zee?"

"Could we talk? Somewhere private?"

"Uh, yeah, sure." Dick got up, offering her his hand. "Got anywhere in mind?"

Zatanna pulled herself up. "Just follow me."

"I'm going home," Jason said as they left the room.

Zatanna led Dick to the garage, where they leaned against one of the motorbikes. "This should be far enough for nobody to overhear."

Dick _so_ hadn't wanted to do this tonight. "Okay, so, uh, what'd you want to talk about?"

Zatanna shrugged. "Just wanted to figure out where we stood. I mean, we were still together when you… you know."

"Yeah, I… yeah." He had to say something. It wasn't fair to string her along. "Look, Zee…"

"Are we breaking up?" Zatanna had a wry smile on her face. Dick wasn't sure what it meant.

"I… yeah."

"I'm not mad, Dick," Zatanna said reassuringly. "It's been two years. That's a long time. Sooooo, you got your eye on somebody else? Huh?" She nudged him, grinning at the colour in his cheeks. "It's great seeing you unmasked. Embarrassing you is so much more fun."

"You're evil."

"So, who do you like?" She poked his ribs. "You need some food. You're gonna fade away." She poked him again.

Dick squirmed. "Zee!"

She punctuated every word with another poke. "Who. Do. You. Like?"

Dick blew a raspberry at her. "It's a secret."

"And you're ticklish." She lunged for him but he dodged her. "Come on, tell me!"

"No no no no—AH!" Zatanna had managed to catch him, latching her arms around his middle. "I'll never tell!"

"All you have to do is tell me and I'll stop," Zatanna said, attacking his ribs. "Tell me your secrets!"

Dick wriggled in her hold but couldn't get away without risking an injury to one of them. He was breathless from laughter.

"Come on," Zatanna goaded. "I promise I won't tell."

"Promise?" Dick panted.

Zatanna stopped her attack. "I promise."

"Okay, fine." He pulled free of her grasp, looking down at the ground and wishing the heat in his face would go away. "It's Wally."

Zatanna blinked. "Okay, I didn't expect that. I thought you were gonna say Artemis. Or Raquel, maybe."

Dick shrugged. "Gender doesn't really come into the equation for me."

"Oh. Okay. Cool. Does Wally know?"

"Yeah, and it's mutual." Dick couldn't suppress a stupid grin. "We're, um, a thing now."

"Oh, look at you blush." Zatanna gave him a fake punch in the gut. "You were going to keep this to yourself, sneaky."

"Not forever," Dick said, a little defensively. "Didn't want to throw too much at the team at once."

"I forgive you. Dick." Zatanna snorted. "That is the best nickname ever."

"Not you, too."

"Too late!" Zatanna laughed her way out of the room, pausing at the doorway to look him up and down. "By the way, I like the new costume. Very sexy." She was gone before Dick could reply.

Well, that went better than expected.


	2. Dust

**A/N: Still struggling to get words down, but I'll try to not make you guys wait as long for an update next time.**

* * *

**Chapter 2: Dust**

Dick and Jason headed back over to Mount Justice right after breakfast. The main chamber was empty, save for Kaldur, who had a damp towel slung over his shoulder as he regarded the holographic computer with a frown.

"Good morning," Kaldur said before turning his attention back to the screen.

"'Morning," Dick said brightly. "What have you got there?" He drew level with the team leader, who still towered over him.

"Batman is not convinced the children we rescued last night are the only surviving victims of the smuggling ring," Kaldur replied, enlarging a photograph of a partially fire-damaged warehouse.

"Whoever set the fire didn't know what they were doing," Dick commented. "There's probably still evidence hidden away there."

"Batman believes the same," said Kaldur. "He intends to investigate it personally."

"I might give him a hand," said Dick. "I'm not starting school again until next semester, so it's not like I've got anything better to do."

"Lucky you," Jason muttered.

"I can still tutor you if you want."

"Piss off."

"Aww, Jay, you're breaking my heart."

Jason fake-kicked his leg before walking off in the direction of the gym. Dick blew him a kiss, which earned him a middle finger aimed in his general direction.

"I see the two of you are getting along," said Kaldur.

"I take my duty as an annoying older brother very seriously," Dick replied. "Things were a bit tense between us at first—totally my fault—but we sorted it out. After we beat the crap out of each other, of course."

"Of course," Kaldur repeated dryly.

"Conner's still suspicious, I take it?"

Kaldur nodded, his eyes refocused on the screen.

"I guess I can't blame him, but I really don't feel comfortable letting M'gann in my head," Dick continued. "I'm going to have a long talk with her first, because it's not going to be a pleasant experience for anyone. And, _ugh_, I to do something about my room."

"I cannot imagine your room is particularly cluttered, Richard," said Kaldur.

"That's not the issue. I'm just not really in the mood for a trip down memory lane. Maybe I'll bully Wally into helping me."

"I doubt bullying will be required."

"**Recognised: Kid Flash, B-03.**"

"Mooornin'," Wally said brightly. "Where is everyone?"

"Jason's probably giving the punching bag something to cry about," Dick replied.

"I believe the others are training with their mentors off-site," Kaldur added.

"Does that mean Zatanna's working with Dr Fate?" asked Dick. "Because that sounds like a disaster waiting to happen."

"Yeah, we weren't too excited about it either," Wally said. "But there aren't many people she can train with. Zatanna told me he mostly just makes sure she doesn't blow herself up while experimenting. Like that's a bad thing."

"Not all explosions give people superpowers, Wally," Dick said lightly.

"Uh. Right. Sorry."

"I might forget about it if you help me clean my quarters today." Dick gave him an innocent smile, at which Wally pouted.

"Why are you so good at making people feel guilty?"

"Is that a yes?"

"Ugh, yes, it's a yes."

"Yes!"

"Stop it."

Kaldur made a shooing motion at the two of them. "Please. I must concentrate."

"Sorry, Kaldur," Dick said sweetly, grabbing Wally's hand and dragging him in the direction of the team's quarters.

"Dude, now?"

"I want to get it over with. Batman said he's dropped off some cardboard boxes." They paused by a cleaning closet for supplies before continuing on. The boxes in question were stacked outside his door. Dick and Wally dropped the cleaning supplies into one of them, which Dick then shoved into Wally's hands. A thin layer of dust collected on Dick's fingertips as he keyed in the passcode. The door didn't so much slide as shudder its way open. Dick wiped his fingers on his jeans, his insides clenching.

"You know," Wally said slowly, "this can wait if you're not ready."

Dick threw him a withering look, grabbed another box and stepped inside, sneezing as he took in his first breath. He reached out to the keypad on the wall, without looking, and turned on the air vents. Unlike his room at the manor, which had at the very least been tidied, his quarters had remained undisturbed. It was a safe bet to assume nobody had been inside since he had suited up inside to join Batman in chasing Ra's al Ghul two years ago, the morning after the team had returned from a rather exhausting mission involving a reappearance of the Injustice League minus the Joker. He'd, apparently, been meeting with Ra's at the time. Dick found that out from the bastard directly while he was bleeding out on the floor of that damn shed.

"Dude. We can come back later."

Dick shook his head as if his thoughts were water. "I'm fine. Just… thinking."

"You're a masochist," Wally muttered, setting the box of cleaning supplies on the corner of the desk, brushing aside the dismantled remnants of a penguin-shaped robot the Penguin had once used for reconnaissance. Robin had shorted it out with an experimental electrified batarang. Dick picked up a small chip that he had long ago determined to be the brain of the thing. He had been hoping to reverse-engineer the system to find a way to locate its controller. Probably pointless now. He'd drop the parts off at the Batcave anyway.

"You gonna throw that stuff out?"

"No, it's Penguin tech," Dick replied. "I'll let Bruce decide what to do with it."

"I'll get a bag." Wally zoomed out of the room and was back before Dick finished gathering the pieces together. Dick started stripping the bed while Wally piled the pieces into a plastic bag. Dick left the naked pillow on top of the mattress and sent Wally to run the covers to the laundry while he got started on dusting. He was leaving the closet—and the costumes within—until last.

Dick had finished dusting, moved the box of cleaning supplies onto the floor and wiped down the desk by the time Wally returned with new sheets.

"Did the washing machine try to eat you?" Dick teased. Wally ignored him.

"You're on fire today," he said brightly, laying a sheet on the mattress before tucking the edges underneath. "You wanna clean out the closet or mop the floor first?"

"I'll get the mop," Dick said, heading for the door. Wally was nearly finished making the bed when he returned with the mop and bucket; he still wasn't that great at performing intricate tasks at high speed. Mopping didn't take long. Wally was more of a hindrance than a help and Dick eventually made him sit on the bed and stay out of the way.

"You don't even have chores at home," Wally complained. "You have a _butler_."

"I did have a life before Bruce, you know," Dick replied, flicking him with water from the bucket. "When we were bad, the animal tamers used to make my cousin and me clean the elephant enclosure. Do you have any idea how much poop an elephant produces? I also just had to survive on my own for the better part of two years. Mopping is easy enough, unless your name's Wally."

"Hey! My mopping skills are legendary."

"Could've fooled me."

"Why are you so mean?"

"Runs in the family," Dick said off-handedly, shoving the mop back into the bucket and hopping onto the bed himself while the floor dried. "And I don't mean biological family."

Wally snorted, bowling the smaller boy over onto his back. "I know."

Dick squirmed under Wally's weight, letting out a sharp laugh when the speedster blew a raspberry into his neck. He was feeling better; Wally was like a sentient stress ball. Wally, taking his laughter as encouragement, jabbed a finger into his armpit, making Dick yelp and roll onto his side. Their hands locked together as they wrestled until Wally's face came too close and Dick surged upward and kissed him.

Wally's arm slid around his waist, catching him before he could fall backwards onto the pillow again. Dick grabbed a fistful of shirt on the speedster's back, hoisting himself closer. Wally wriggled his tongue into the little gap between Dick's lips, making both of them laugh into each other's mouths.

"My, aren't you keen?" Dick said between kisses. He settled himself back on the bed, dragging Wally down with him. Wally licked the tip of his nose. Dick flicked the other boy's tooth when he opened his mouth to laugh at the disgusted look on his face.

"Ow!" Wally recoiled, covering his mouth. "Diiiick!"

"You started it." Dick brought up his sock-clad foot and pressed it against Wally's chest. "Now get off me."

"Aww." Wally sprawled across Dick, burying his face in the pillow right next to the other boy's head.

"I don't remember dating a starfish."

"It's one of my lesser-known superpowers."

"Starfish eat by spitting out their stomachs and engulfing their food. Do you really… yeah, that sounds about right."

"Hey!"

"Shh, it's okay." Dick nuzzled the side of Wally's face. "Your secret is safe with me."

"Okay. You're right. By day, I am a mere human speedster, but by night, I am… Starfish Man!"

Dick buried his face on Wally's hair, unable to stifle his giggles. "Starfish Man. Really?"

"The Human Starfish? Kid Flash the Starfish Wonder? Kid Starfish? Kidfish? Starflash?"

Dick pressed Wally's face into the pillow. "Enough." Wally flailed until Dick let his head up. "When was the last time our conversations made sense?"

"Oh, you know, probably ever." Wally rolled off Dick at last and onto his back. "Your ceiling is boring. We should get stickers."

"Isn't that against regulations?"

"What regulations?"

"Whatever. Posters we can do, but I'm not putting stickers up in a room that isn't technically even mine because they're clingy little shits who like to leave pieces of themselves behind."

"You sound like Jason more and more each day."

"It's part of our grand plan to merge into a single being and become the ultimate superpowerless hero." Dick sat up and ran his foot across the floor. "Floor's dry enough. Time to deal with the closet, I guess."

"Dude, if you're not ready—"

"I'm not getting any readier, Wally." Dick set the biggest box on the end of his bed. Wally reached out and squeezed his hand; neither of them knew what it was going to be like for Dick to open up the closet to find his old uniforms in there.

Dick closed his fingers around the handle and took a deep breath. He could do this. He pulled the door open and dust swirled into his nostrils. Eyes watering, he reached out and pulled the first costume off its hanger. He could probably still fit into it if he really tried, though it'd be too short in the leg and uncomfortably tight, especially in the shoulders.

He silently folded the costume and settled it in the box. Wally watched from the bed, seeming to sense this was something his boyfriend wanted to do by himself. Dick folded and boxed the other two spares and placed the one spare utility belt on top—some of the contents might be salvageable. He shut the box and set it alongside the others.

Wally looked into the closet. "What's that?"

Dick pulled out a little metal box and placed it on the bed. "I kept my personal items in here. It was too risky to leave them out when my identity was still a secret."

"What kind of personal items?"

Dick keyed in the combination—Bruce had reminded him, along with his room passcode, since old numbers didn't always stay in his head these days—and showed Wally the Flying Graysons poster. He had kept one in every place he was likely to stay before he'd died.

There was also an old photo of him and the rest of the Graysons posing with a little dark-haired boy who couldn't have been older than five at the time, and another of him with Bruce and Alfred at a fair in Metropolis shortly after he'd become Robin. Dick could remember that day clearly, even though other memories just as old often slipped through the cracks of his mind since his resurrection.

Bruce had needed to visit Metropolis for business and Alfred had persuaded him to bring them along. The fair had been hard for Dick due to its similarity to the circus; his eyes were red and puffy in the photo. Bruce had made him feel better by winning him an enormous stuffed elephant, which had earned a place of honour beside the little stuffed elephant he'd managed to take with him when he left the circus. The day was one of Dick's favourite post-circus memories despite the toll it had taken on him emotionally.

Wally pulled Dick onto the bed and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Dick hadn't noticed he was shaking until then.

"I'm all right," he said quickly. "It's just, you know, a lot has changed."

Wally gave him a little squeeze. "It's okay, even if you're not. No one's going to blame you for needing time to get your head around everything."

"Thanks for helping out today," Dick said, burying his face in Wally's shoulder.

"There was no way I was going to let you deal with this alone." Wally planted a kiss on the crown of Dick's head. Dick let out a soft hum.

"We should get these boxes home," he said, shoving one into Wally's hands.


	3. Light Suspicions

**Chapter 3: Light Suspicions**

Hanging up the spare Nightwing suits in the closet where Robin's had once been was a… perturbing experience. No matter how much Dick fussed and fiddled, they just didn't look like they belonged there. He moved on to adding the spare civilian clothes in the hopes that maybe the costumes would look better in a fuller closet, but, if anything, that only made the situation worse. Wally wasn't there to take his mind off it—he was stuck at home with a pile of assignments—and Dick wasn't about to go complaining to anybody else because he was getting worked up over _his clothes looking wrong_. He slammed the closet shut in frustration.

"You're lucky," someone said behind him. Dick whirled around to find Conner of all people leaning against the doorframe. "I did that once and broke the door."

"Somehow, I'm not surprised," Dick replied. If Conner was going to talk to him like he wasn't about to betray them all… well, he kind of needed the normality right now. "You were pretty angry for a while there."

"Still am," Conner replied with a shrug. "I just got better at dealing with it. Or I thought I did."

"…meaning?"

Conner sighed. "M'gann mentioned I was being a jerk about, you know, you. Honestly, I still don't trust you're the same guy as before."

"I'm not." Dick half-considered sitting down on his bed just to _do something_ but his muscles felt all coiled up and tight and definitely weren't about to let him relax for even a second. "The kid you knew back then is dead. He's not coming back." Quickly, in response to Conner's frown, he added, "Not literally. I mean—I don't—I… oh, forget it. Long story short, don't expect me to start laughing in combat ever again."

"…right."

"Batman ran every test he could think of to make sure I'm not a clone," Dick said. "He even invented some new ones based on minute genetic differences between the two Roy Harpers he found when studying their genetic codes in detail since the original Roy still had a DNA sample on file from years ago. The differences are minor, mostly, but if you know what you're looking for…"

"Even if you're not a clone, the Light could still have messed with your head," Connor interrupted. "M'gann said you were still planning to let her read your mind."

"Yeah, I might have been putting it off." Dick gave a sheepish smile. "I'll talk to her about it."

"_Today_."

"Okay, okay." Dick made a mental note to call Wally first. He didn't have any illusions about his ability to get through this without his help.

Conner stalked off. Dick couldn't blame him for being concerned, really, but that didn't make him feel any less alienated from a place that used to be like a second home to him. He deliberately turned away from the closet before he gave into the urge to kick it and fished out his phone. Wally's parents didn't like him using his communicator at home for some reason.

Wally picked up almost instantly. "Hey, beautiful. Are you coming to rescue me from this—" Papers rustled on his end of the line, "—god_damn_ _assignment_ oh my God I'm going to—"

"Am I interrupting something?"

"No, no, just the last vestiges of my sanity bleeding out of my fingers, through my pen and into the paper."

"What subject is the culprit this time?"

"Math. Like, I'm not even bad at math but _this motherfudging piece of_—oh, hey, Mum."

"Need a hand?" asked Dick.

"Just a sec." Wally's voice then grew distant as he addressed his mother. "It's Dick. Yes, I've been doing it. He called me, like, less than a minute ago. He offered to help. Can he help? Can I go to the Cave to get help? Really? Yes! Hey, Dick, I'll be at the Cave in a few." He hung up. Dick just hoped the homework wasn't too taxing. His mind wasn't exactly all in the one place at the moment.

It didn't take long for Wally to tornado into Dick's room—he hadn't bothered closing the door after Conner's departure—and throw his homework onto the floor, scattering papers everywhere. Dick did his best to catch them, but one still ended up flying under his bed.

"Okay, so what's the problem?" he asked, retrieving that last sheet.

Wally threw himself on the floor. "Everything. Everything's the problem."

Dick rolled his eyes and sat down beside him. "Why don't you show me where you ran into trouble?"

Even with Wally's histrionics, it didn't take long for Dick to figure out the problem, walk Wally through it and make him do the rest himself.

"Sooo, why is there a new crack in your closet door?" Wally asked, dropping his pencil.

"Just do your work."

"Hey, I've been doing it! I deserve a break."

"The costumes looked wrong," Dick muttered.

"Huh?"

"My new costumes didn't look like they belonged there even after I put the rest of my clothes in," Dick said irritably, shuffling away to rest his back against the side of his bed. "Now shut up and do your work."

"Dick, I—"

"Just stop."

Neither of them spoke again until Wally had finished writing. He packed up his work and crawled over to Dick's side.

Dick sighed. "What?"

"About the costumes…" Wally rubbed the back of his neck and was quiet for so long that Dick was about ready to smack him. "Maybe it'll just take a little time, you know, to settle in."

"They're clothes, not people."

Wally dropped his head onto the younger boy's shoulder, nuzzling his neck. "Okay, maybe it'll just take _you_ a little time to settle in."

"Yeah, yeah." It was difficult to be annoyed with Wally when he was behaving like a puppy. "Conner came to talk to me before I called you."

"What about?"

"He said the only way I'm going to convince I'm not brainwashed is if I let M'gann read my mind," Dick said. "He wants me to do it today."

"Only if you think you're ready for it," Wally replied. "If you're not, take all the time you need."

"I'm not getting any readier. I was hoping you could be there, just in case."

"Sure thing."

"Let's go." Dick pulled Wally up with him.

"Wait." Wally planted a light kiss on his nose. "Okay, now we can go."

"Sap."

* * *

They found M'gann in one of the spare training rooms, tossing spherical weights around with her telekinesis. While team training sessions usually occurred in the main chamber, the cave held a number of smaller rooms and a gym for use outside of official training times.

M'gann laid the weights back where they belonged on the rack against the wall. "Hi, Wally. Hi, Dick. Conner said he was going to talk to you."

"He did," Dick replied. "That's why I'm here. I want to talk about it before we try any mind-reading."

"Of course!" M'gann floated past them. "Come on. Let's talk in my room."

M'gann's bedroom walls were so covered in posters that it was almost impossible to see the wall underneath. Aside from the unsurprising _Hello Megan!_ posters, there were some of various movies, singers, assorted bands, and even a Flying Graysons poster. M'gann caught Dick staring at it.

"Oh. Uh." She smiled sheepishly. "I got it while we were on tour with the circus. I could take it down if you'd like."

"No, it's okay," Dick replied. "I've got at least five of them floating around somewhere."

"Aw, that's kind of sweet. Sad… but sweet." M'gann frowned. "Wait. I'm sorry, was that rude of me?"

"It's fine, M'gann." It was nice that she was concerned, though.

"Right. So, uh, what exactly did you want to talk about?"

"I wanted to know if you'll have to go through my memories while you're looking for signs of brainwashing," Dick replied.

"I think so. It won't be the same as looking through Conner and Roy's minds for programming, since any indoctrination happened while they were being created. If you have any gaps in your memory, though, we can look at those first. We might not have to look through your other memories that way."

Dick screwed up his face, thinking back. It was not a pleasant experience, but Wally put a hand on his shoulder to help ground him. "I have a few holes here and there but I was already far away from Ra's al Ghul at that point. Unless you count the time when I was dead."

"Then I guess that's where we should look first," said M'gann.

"I can't wait," Dick said dryly.

"Just how safe is this exactly?" Wally asked.

"I've been practising," M'gann replied. "Besides, I can ask Uncle J'onn to supervise."

"If any possible indoctrination happened while I was dead," said Dick, "do we still need to look at the memories on either side of it?"

"Probably. That'll give me a baseline for comparison before and after your death, which might make it easier to figure out if your brain has been altered."

"How do things like, say, psychological conditions factor into that?" Wally asked. "I mean, Dick went through a lot, and the Lazarus Pit makes you crazy as it is."

M'gann fixed her eyes on Dick. "What condition do you have?"

"Black Canary diagnosed me with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder." Dick avoided her stare; it was making him uncomfortable. "Since it apparently alters brain functions, it might be trickier to find out if somebody has deliberately messed with my head."

M'gann made a noise that sounded a bit like 'euch'. "I'll… talk to Uncle J'onn."

* * *

The conversation had done nothing to make Dick feel better about letting anyone inside his head. Waiting for M'gann to finish talking with her uncle wasn't helping, either. Wally eventually dragged him out to the living area to watch TV with the rest of the team, but Dick's attention was so scattered that he couldn't focus on the plot of whatever show they were watching.

Every muscle in his body was coiled tight and he was one loud noise away from leaping out of his seat. Wally had shuffled closer to him over the course of the show and, honestly, his presence was about the only thing keeping Dick there.

He was almost relieved when M'gann finally returned with the Martian Manhunter in tow. Well, he was relived for all of five seconds before the realisation that meant he'd have to let one of them in his head soon crashed back down upon him.

Conner muted the TV, ignoring Artemis's protestations that they were getting to the good part.

"I have not yet had the chance to welcome you back, Richard," said the Martian Manhunter. "M'gann informs me she requires assistance in determining whether your mind has suffered any indoctrination at the hands of the Light."

Dick got up, dragging Wally to his feet. "Maybe we should talk about this in private." He didn't exactly want to explain his neuroses to the entire team.

They ended up in the office adjacent to the medical bay, which, Dick recalled, was soundproofed to prevent certain kryptonians overhearing conversations of a medical nature they weren't meant to overhear. Sound from the main area was routed through a speaker that could be turned on and off.

Dick and Wally claimed the loveseat near the door while M'gann telekinetically turned one of the chairs by the desk to face them. The Martian Manhunter remained standing beside her.

"How much did M'gann tell you?" Dick asked.

"You have developed a mental illness which may impede attempts to examine the required memories," said the Martian Manhunter.

"Uncle J'onn and I came up with an idea," M'gann added. "With his help, I should be able to stabilise the connection enough to distance you from the memories we're examining. We don't know how well it'll work, but it might make the process easier for you."

"And if something goes wrong?" Wally said. His hand twitched like he was about to grab Dick's. Dick was torn between wishing he'd gone through with it and not wanting anybody to touch him.

"I should be able to safely sever the connection," replied the Martian Manhunter.

"Like you did with that training exercise?" Wally's tone didn't _quite_ edge into rudeness, but it was well on the way there.

"We didn't understand how strong my abilities were back then," M'gann told him. "I was overwhelmed by everyone's emotions, including my own, and took over the simulation by accident. There are fewer people involved this time and I have a better control over my abilities. It's probably never going to be completely safe, but our chances are better now than they were back then."

"We need to find out whether the Light reprogrammed my brain, Wally," Dick said quietly. "If you have a better idea, I'd love to hear it."

"I don't have a better idea," Wally muttered. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"I don't like it either," Dick admitted. "Do you guys have a backup plan if something goes wrong and J'onn can't break the connection?"

"It is possible for another person to be connected as I was during the aforementioned simulation," the Martian Manhunter said.

"But anybody who comes in might get confused like you did," M'gann replied.

"I may be able to help ground another person entering."

"By 'another person', I guess you mean me," said Wally.

"You don't have to," replied Dick.

Wally gave his shoulder a light squeeze. "Nah, it's okay. I want to help." Dick was tempted to kiss him, but M'gann was talking again.

"We'll ground Dick the best we can," she said, "but it's still possible he'll be overwhelmed by his own memories, which could feed back into me and make me lose control of the link. If that happens, Uncle J'onn can send Wally in to try and calm Dick down enough to let me regain control and shut everything down. How does that sound?"

"Dangerous as hell," Dick answered honestly. "But I can't see an alternative."

M'gann shifted forward in her seat, slowly straightening her posture. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'm going to get, I guess." Dick found himself mirroring her position; he'd discovered years ago that going into psychic links with poor posture tended to result in back pain upon returning to the real world.

"Then let's do it." M'gann's eyes began to glow green and the room faded away until it was just the two of them amidst a background of white.

"Nice place," Dick commented unnecessarily. His voice echoed in the silence and he had to resist the temptation to start yelling random things just to hear them bounce around in the space like he was a freaking ten-year-old.

M'gann gave him a half-smile. "I didn't want to throw you right into the first memory without warning."

"Thanks."

"I won't make you go through the whole of what the Joker did to you," M'gann told him. "Unless you have blank parts?"

"No, it's pretty vivid," Dick replied, wincing.

"Okay, I'll try to distance you from the memory, but I can't control how you react to it." A large, transparent rectangle appeared a few feet to Dick's right. "I'm trying to find an entry point. It'll be easier if you relax."

Dick let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. There was a light tugging sensation inside his head, like the memory didn't quite want to be pulled out. The screen flickered to life and sounds began to filter through.

_"Maybe some more physical comedy will get this show rolling along."_

Dick's stomach dropped.

_The Joker pressed the edge of the crowbar against Robin's cheek. "You haven't sung for me yet, Birdie."_

"Dick." M'gann's voice sounded distant, like she was shouting at him from across a busy road. "Dick. Breathe."

_He dug the crowbar into Robin's shoulder and rolled him over onto his back. Robin cursed under his breath as his spine creaked and scraped against itself. "Ooh, didn't like that, did you? Tell me what hurts more: forehand…" _

**_Crack_**_. _Dick felt his ribs cave under the blow.

_"…or backhand?" __**Crack**__._

M'gann's voice was still calling to him, but it was fading rapidly.

He couldn't breathe.

* * *

**A/N: I'm a jerk.**


	4. Damn Everything

**A/N: So I have arrived to resolve the cliffhanger I left you guys with last time. I may or may not be slightly tipsy right now lol but have no fear because I finished most of this before the alcohol arrived on the scene. We can definitely blame the title on the alcohol, though.**

* * *

**Chapter 4: Damn Everything**

Dick made a choked noise and a shudder heaved through his body. Wally reached out to steady him.

"That's not good," he said, looking up at the Martian Manhunter, who had moved to assist M'gann. Her appearance rippled briefly—for a moment she was too tall for the chair and her skin had turned white—before she seemed to regain control and return to her usual petite, green-skinned form. Whatever was happening in their heads, it was using up enough of her concentration that she could barely control her shape.

"Richard is reacting poorly to the memory," the Martian Manhunter said. Dick's face was turning a sickly grey.

"Send me in," Wally replied, gently pushing Dick back by the shoulders so the chair could support him. "Now."

The room fell away.

The first thing Wally witnessed was M'gann's voice, high and panicked. Everything shimmered into place around him. Dick had collapsed on the… it was sometimes a floor and sometimes just white blankness. A rectangle hovered in the air nearby, only barely containing the memory of the laughing Joker beating a helpless Robin within its borders. Those borders were fading in and out; every time they vanished, the scene bled outwards and Dick writhed harder from his spot on the not-floor. His appearance was flickering; sometimes he was a little Robin again and sometimes he was just Dick. M'gann was barely more than smoke, solid enough to scream but not enough to take control of the situation. Her image grew weaker every time the surroundings pulsed and shifted.

"I'll try to calm him down," Wally called to her. Her attention shifted to him for less than a second before she focused on Dick again; she was using every ounce of power she had to stop herself from fading out completely. She wouldn't be able to help him unless he pulled Dick out of his panic.

Wally made it over to Dick without trouble. The memory broke the banks of the screen again and a terrible, maniacal laughter filled the space. Dick—Robin—jerked silently, like he'd just been hit with an invisible weapon. There was blood on his lips one second, and nothing the next. The memory was patchy, jumping back and forth and sometimes it wasn't even coherent at all.

M'gann, sweet little M'gann, actually _swore_ as their surroundings shuddered again. "The memory's falling apart!"

"I take it that's a bad thing?" Wally shouted back. Dick's forehead was icy beneath his palm.

"If it breaks down while we're still connected, we could all end up in a coma… or worse!" M'gann's voice was fading again alongside her body. Who knew how much longer she could hold everyone together?

Wally turned his attention back to Dick, who let out a sob. Joker's laugh boomed into the space again.

_"Sorry, kid. I got a little… excited." _It sounded like he might be talking for a while. Good. If he was talking, he wasn't hurting Dick. Wally seized the opportunity while the Joker rambled on about his Grand Evil Plan. Why did villains always feel the need to monologue?

"Dick?" Wally tapped the younger boy's cheek. "Dick, can you hear me?" Dick groaned and turned his face away. "Dude, no. Listen to me. This is a memory. M'gann's trying to hold everything together so we don't all end up in comas, but you've got to help us out here."

Everything was shifting again. Robin's broken domino mask was phasing in and out of existence on his face.

"Dick… babe… focus on me." Wally turned Dick's head by the chin. The one eye visible through a broken mask lens was glazed over. "This isn't real, but you need to calm down." He spared a glance at the screen. Robin was staring down a bomb on a twenty-second countdown; he didn't need M'gann to tell him what could happen if the counter reached zero while Dick was still tangled up in the memory. "Shit. Okay." He managed to snake an arm beneath Dick's shoulders and pull the boy to his chest. Maybe if he got him remembering something else, and quickly… "You're okay, remember? You came home and we roasted marshmallows and sausages over a campfire and listened to the radio and I made you get up and dance with me because I dedicated an Enrique Iglesias song to you. Remember that?"

Everything around them wavered and the fabric beneath Wally's fingers softened into the hoodie Dick was wearing in reality, but the clock was still counting down.

"And then I told you I loved you and you kissed me so hard we fell over," Wally continued. "And you were so embarrassed by everything so you buried your face in my sweater."

Dick let out a sob-laugh, life coming back into his body at last, and he hid his now unmasked face against Wally's chest. "Yeah."

"That was a good night, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. It was."

Everything around them faded to white and M'gann let out a relieved sigh as she solidified again. "That was close," she said, kneeling beside the two boys. Dick was still weak and shaky in Wally's arms, but at least they were no longer at risk.

"Can you get us out of here now?" asked Wally.

"I need a minute." M'gann let out a long breath. "That took a lot more out of me than I expected."

"Sorry." Dick sat up, pushing Wally's helping hands away. Wally could see his mask of composure sliding back into place, but it wouldn't last long. Not when he was this rattled. Nevertheless, it probably wasn't a good idea to touch him again unless he showed signs that he wanted to be touched.

"You didn't get to look for indoctrination, did you?" Wally asked M'gann, who shook her head.

"Once the memory became too potent, all I could do was try not to get blown away," she replied. "We'll have to try again, once we've all recovered."

"Great," Dick muttered.

"I'm ready to take us out, if you guys are ready?"

"Go for it." Dick sounded like he wanted to lie down and go to sleep right there. Wally offered his hand, but Dick ignored it. The whiteness around them began to fade.

* * *

Dick's eyes were shut and it was going to take something momentous for him to open them. He could hear Wally's voice in his ear, but the words were unintelligible to him. His body was aching _everywhere_. It didn't seem to matter that he hadn't taken any real hits. They had felt real enough. God, he just wished Wally would _stop talking and leave him alone_.

**"Dick?"** M'gann's voice was in his head. Dick jerked involuntarily against the intrusion, opening his eyes at last to glare at her. "Sorry," she said aloud. "We couldn't get through to you."

Wally was hovering just in his space, but at least he wasn't trying to touch him. Dick didn't want to be touched; the very thought of having hands on him right now made him want to hit something.

"Would it be inappropriate for me to congratulate you guys on getting together right now?" M'gann asked when it became clear nobody else was going to speak.

Dick forced a smile; he thought for a moment that his face would split in half from the effort. "Uh, I guess not." Wally visibly relaxed beside him.

"I should get you home," he said. "Do you feel up to moving?"

"I'll cope." Dick batted Wally's proffered hand away and got up by himself. A wave of nausea nearly sent him reeling backwards.

"We talk about this tomorrow," Wally told M'gann as he opened the door for Dick. "You… should probably lie down, M'gann. You look a little… well, not _green_ because that's normal for you."

M'gann smiled weakly at him. "I know what you mean. Go take care of Dick and stop worrying about me."

"As long as you take care of yourself," Wally said, ushering Dick out the door.

"I can get home fine by myself," Dick said irritably; something about what M'gann had said rubbed him the wrong way. He was capable of taking care of himself, damn it.

"I'm sure you can," Wally said diplomatically as they started back toward the main chamber. "But it wouldn't be very responsible of me to leave you alone when you're feeling crappy, would it?"

"I guess not," Dick grumbled. They reached the main chamber and he keyed in their destination and passcode into the zeta tube's computer. It took him three tries because his hands wouldn't stop shaking. Damn security measures. Damn hands. Damn everything.

They rematerialized in the Batcave, where Dick would've fallen flat on his face if Wally hadn't caught him. "Gotcha!"

"Thanks," Dick muttered, annoyed that Wally had to catch him in the first place.

Wally was still holding him. "What did you want to do? I could find Alfred if you wanted some tea or something to eat."

Dick shook his head and started for the gym area of the cave. Better to take out his newly-returned rage and frustration on a punching bag rather than a human, no matter how quickly that human may heal from it. Wally followed him silently, watching from a respectful distance as Dick threw off his hoodie and wrapped his hands. The last thing he needed right now was to cause himself an injury because he was in too shitty a mood to pull his punches. He was wearing a singlet and sweatpants today so he didn't need to worry about changing clothes, thank God. He didn't think he had the patience for that.

Bruce appeared seemingly out of nowhere, which made Wally let out a yelp. He passed a pair of training gloves to Dick before leaving the room again. Dick had been too distracted to notice his approach. Sloppy.

"Where did he even _come from_?" Wally whimpered. Dick almost smiled as he pulled on the gloves. Almost.

The first punch to the bag shook loose the tightness of his insides. He let out a long breath.

"You tell that bag, babe." Wally was sitting on a bench by the wall, next to a water bottle Bruce had probably put there without anybody noticing. Dick made a face at him, then lowered himself into a proper fighting stance and threw another punch. And another.

Dick's concentration finally returned to him and he sharpened his focus to a fine point, with nothing but him and the punching bag and his fists. It was all too easy to imagine the punching bag as every single bastard that had taken a shot at him, the Joker chief among them. He hit the bag so hard that it swung back and smacked him in the stomach, but he just kicked it away again.

"You okay?" Wally asked him.

"Fucking peachy." Dick roundhouse kicked the damn thing because screw this bag screw the Joker screw _everything_. He was tired of being fate's personal punching bag. Even when he tried to do the right thing, it just blew up in his face. _God damn it_.

Dick slammed his fist into the bag one last time before he stumbled away and fell flat on his face like a freaking toddler. Wally was at his side in an instant.

"You haven't been sleeping again," he said quietly, helping the younger boy to the bench and passing him the water bottle.

Dick tugged off his gloves and took a long sip of water to avoid answering. All that enraged energy had just… left him. He was back to wanting to curl up and go to sleep. Wally offered a hand to help him up. Dick contemplated ignoring it, but eventually decided he could use the help. Wally kept holding on as they exited the cave for the manor proper. Dick didn't feel up to having a shower, so he unwrapped his hands, freshened up with a washcloth in the bathroom and put on a change of clothes before returning to Wally, who was waiting in Dick's adjacent room. With his homework.

"I forgot I left it in your room at Mount Justice," he said, smiling sheepishly.

"Do you need to get home?"

"Not really. I can stay if you need me."

Dick groaned and fell facefirst onto his bed. Fingers combed through his hair.

"I'm gonna take that as a yes."

Dick turned his head to watch Wally kick off his shoes and lie down beside him. The older boy planted a kiss on his forehead and Dick wriggled close enough to grab his arms and put them around him. Wally gathered him up to his chest without any further prompting. Dick wasted no time getting himself all tangled up in his boyfriend's legs and settling down to rest.

"Love you," Wally whispered, giving him a good, long squeeze. Dick let himself deflate, trusting Wally to take care of him while he slept.

* * *

He woke some time later to darkness. A vaguely human shape loomed nearby. Dick lay very still, ready to grab them if they tried anything.

"It's me," Bruce said, turning on the bedside lamp. Dick almost sighed with relief. He was too twitchy these days.

"Where's Wally?" he asked groggily, rubbing his eyes.

"Eating dinner. He wanted to let you sleep a little longer."

"That's nice of him." Dick frowned at the blanket that was lying on top of him. When did that get there?

"Alfred," Bruce said by way of explanation.

"Of course."

Bruce sat on the end of the bed. "Wally told me Miss Martian wasn't able to determine whether the Light indoctrinated you."

"She didn't get a chance before I flipped out," Dick grumbled. The memory of what happened in the mind link sat unshakeably heavy in the pit of his stomach. "Wally had to go in there and calm me down before I ended up putting us in a coma or something."

"That's unfortunate."

"You're not going to say 'I told you so'?"

"No. I understand the necessity of ensuring your mind hasn't been tampered with. Any concerns I had were purely for your well-being." Bruce hadn't been especially vocal about his concerns when Dick had mentioned the possibility of a Martian mind-reading, but his displeasure had been clear enough.

"We'll have to try it again," Dick said, as utterly exciting as the idea was to him. "Preferably when M'gann isn't drained and I'm not off swimming in the deep end."

"You have a session with Dinah tomorrow. Talk to her about it."

Dick groaned and buried his face in the pillow. Bruce chuckled.

"Come on, Dick. You should eat."

Dick grumbled incoherently into the pillow, until Bruce pulled it out from beneath him. "Bruuuuuuuce!"

"Up."

"You're a bad person," Dick complained, rolling out of bed.

"So I've been told." Bruce threw a pair of shoes in Dick's direction. "Hurry up."

Dick grumbled some more as he put them on. "I'm not even hungry."

"You missed lunch. You're not skipping dinner." Bruce's voice was halfway to Batman, which left no room for argument.

Dick huffed and headed for the door. Bruce reached out as he passed, resting his hand on the boy's head. Dick froze, tense for a moment, before he forced himself to relax again. Physical affection from Bruce was like… sunshine. It was easy enough for Dick to lock himself away and try to get by without it. Hell, there were times when he felt like self-isolation was the only way to survive his darker moments. But all it took was one slip—a sliver of golden light through the curtains, a single touch—to realise how much he missed it.

And to think it was only a few hours ago that Dick couldn't stand to have anybody touch him.

He was seconds away from falling to pieces again. Bruce ran his hand through the boy's hair and down his neck to rest between the shoulder blades, pulling him into a proper embrace. He remained silent as Dick breathed in shallow gasps of air, grabbing fistfuls of the man's shirt to keep himself present. The memories were razor-sharp and overbright. They were going to shred him to little pieces and burn out his eyes if he let them. He couldn't let them.

Bruce held him tighter, as if he could hold Dick together through brute strength alone. It helped.

Eventually, enough time passed that Alfred came to check on them. "Is everything all right?" he asked. Dick burrowed into the relative privacy of Bruce's shirt, heat rising in his face. It was bad enough that he'd fallen apart in front of Bruce, let alone _Alfred_.

"Could you bring Dick something to eat?" Bruce responded. "He's not up to coming down for dinner."

"Certainly, sir. Shall I inform Master Wally?"

"That's… probably a good idea."

"Right away, sir."

Bruce set Dick down on the edge of the bed, keeping a hand on his back to ground him. "What do you need? What can I do?"

Dick hunched over with his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees—his hands were shaking too much to support anything themselves. He wasn't ready to speak yet. Bruce, thank God, didn't push him for a response.

Alfred showed up with a tray of food, and Wally. "The bat signal has been lit, sir. Master Jason is already preparing to leave."

Bruce grunted in annoyance. "Dick—"

Dick sat up at last. "It's okay," he said tiredly.

"I'll take care of him," Wally promised. Bruce fixed him with a glare that said _you'd better_.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," he said, standing up.

"Don't bother," Dick replied. "I'll be asleep when you get back anyway." Bruce gave his shoulder a hard squeeze before he left.

Alfred set the dinner tray on the bedside table. "Do try to finish your meal, Master Dick, for the sake of your health."

Dick laughed weakly, his voice tipping upwards into hysteria.

Wally was by his side in an instant, clutching one of the younger boy's hands to his chest. "Hey, take a deep breath, okay?" Alfred passed Wally a glass of water. "Here, drink this."

It took all of Dick's concentration, and both hands, not to spill the whole damn thing all over himself. Draining half the glass in one go made him feel marginally better. Wally, no longer having access to his boyfriend's hands, started rubbing his back instead.

"Did that help?"

"A little." Dick set the glass aside and accepted the tray from Alfred, who hadn't made a single comment about the impropriety of taking a meal on the bed. Dick must've looked even worse than he felt. Alfred left him in Wally's care and left, most likely to check on Batman and Robin's progress.

Alfred had been considerate with the amount of food he provided—a small bowl of spaghetti and a side of salad. Even that was probably too much for Dick to stomach, but he gave it a good try. Wally cuddled up to his side and kissed his temple every so often as encouragement. The last few bites were difficult, but he managed to finish.

"Well done, babe," Wally said, just before he decided it was a good idea to blow a raspberry into Dick's neck. Dick came perilously close to dropping the tray.

"_Wally_."

"Shh. You need more cuddles."

"You make a compelling argument." Dick placed the tray on the bedside table and climbed onto the bed proper. Wally tackled him onto the pillows, laughing evilly all the while. Dick twined his legs around the older boy's waist and used that as leverage to flip them both over.

"Did Alfred lace that spaghetti with caffeine or something? Not that I'm complaining…"

"Oh, hush." Dick wriggled into a more comfortable position, pillowing his head on Wally's chest. Wally wrapped his arms around him and gave him a good squeeze.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked softly. Dick hummed in response. "I'll take that as a yes. God, you had me worried."

Dick jabbed him in the ribs. "Less talk, more cuddling."


	5. Take Two

**A/N: Any readers who have trouble with reading about panic attacks or vomiting might want to quit reading after the boys go home.**

**Regarding the locations of Gotham and Central City as discussed near the end of the chapter: I'm working with a common idea that Gotham is in New Jersey and Central City is in Missouri. There might be other theories on their locations, but that's what I'm going with. We already know Happy Harbour is in Rhode Island from watching the show, as it's specifically mentioned in at least one episode.**

**Chapter 5: Take Two**

The room where Black Canary held therapy sessions, like the medical office, was one of the few places inside Mount Justice that was almost completely soundproofed. Most rooms avoided too much of it due to its tactical disadvantage in an emergency situation. The bedroom walls contained soundproofing materials on the sides that connected to other rooms, but the wall facing the door did not. Dick was familiar with the structure of the cave inside Mount Justice, from the general layout to the materials used in its construction; it had seemed like a good idea after Red Tornado's siblings attempted to invade a few years back.

Of course, mentally examining the structure of Mount Justice probably wasn't the best thing to do while in therapy. Dick had developed a tendency to zone out and focus on irrelevant things during these sessions. Black Canary had once suggested it was a coping mechanism, since their conversations could often become difficult for Dick to handle. She was probably right.

Dick dragged his attention back to the here and now. Black Canary was watching him, the end of her pencil tapping against her notepad.

"Welcome back," she said lightly, before getting back to business. "So, do you think a lack of preparation might have contributed to the effect M'gann's mind-reading had on you?"

Dick shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe. But how do you prepare yourself for something like that?"

"Perhaps taking some time to stabilise yourself beforehand could have helped?" Black Canary suggested. "From what you told me, it sounds like you were anxious even before M'gann attempted to establish contact."

"Of course I was anxious," Dick said irritably. "I have to relive that memory of the Joker _murdering me_ enough without seeking the damn thing out."

"And that may have made it harder to withstand the level of recollection M'gann needed," Black Canary replied calmly. "Given how irritable you've been today, I'm assuming those feelings haven't gone away."

Dick huffed. "I'm just pissed that we have to do it again because I couldn't deal with it the first time. If I couldn't do it then, how am I supposed to do it now?"

"We'll find a way," Black Canary promised. "You know how intense it is now, and we know it's possible for somebody to enter the mind if you need help. There's _nothing wrong with needing help_," she added before Dick could complain.

Dick groaned at her and dropped his head onto one of his arms resting on the armrest. "None of that's going to help."

"Which brings me back to what I was saying before," Black Canary cut in before Dick could get too melodramatic. "Taking some time to calm and ground yourself before entering the mind link might help you cope."

"As if I'll be able to do that right before I deliberately trigger myself," Dick grumbled.

"It's worth a try," Black Canary insisted. "In addition to that, using grounding techniques while witnessing the memory might help stop it from overwhelming you. Asking yourself out loud how old you are, where you are, the date, describing your clothes… things like that. You can also simulate physical sensations, such as snapping and elastic band against your skin, to remind yourself what's real and what isn't."

"What if I get mixed up and think the memory's real?"

"Wally can help ground you," said Black Canary. "He can ask you the questions, remind you where you are if you forget."

"I guess."

Black Canary got up to rummage through a drawer in the corner of the room. She flicked a rubber band in Dick's direction, aiming it well enough that it bounced off an armrest and landed in his lap. Dick put it on his wrist.

Black Canary sat down again. "Take everything I've said into account, but if you're not ready to do this, I'm sure we can put it off for another day."

Dick shook his head. "I want to get it over with."

"Okay. The Martians should be arriving soon. In the meantime, let's practise some calming techniques."

* * *

It was decided that the second mind link would take place in the same place as Dick's therapy session. Wally sat on the armrest to Dick's right, absent-mindedly trailing his fingers through the younger boy's black hair. Black Canary had given up her seat for M'gann, but stuck around, flicking through the notes she'd taken in Dick's session. They had already discussed Black Canary's suggestions.

"Are you ready, Dick?" M'gann asked. She seemed smaller than usual, and her smile was forced.

Dick had been trying a few good old-fashioned Bat-meditation techniques Bruce had taught him over the years, so it took him a moment to reorient himself and register the question. "Ready as I'm going to get, I guess."

"Martian Manhunter will bring me in as soon as the memory starts." Wally's hand slid down from Dick's hair to rest on his shoulder. "We'll help you get through this, babe. I promise." Dick squeezed his hand, looking up into Wally's earnest face, and he couldn't help but crack a small smile.

"I know. Thank you." He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay. Let's do this."

The room feel away and was replaced by a familiar white expanse. Dick felt for his wrist to find the rubber band was still there. Good.

M'gann was floating about a foot off where the floor would be if it was possible to distinguish it from the rest of the white. "Do you need a minute?"

"Yeah." Dick closed his eyes and took a few slow breaths. They had plans in place to stop him from getting lost again and Wally would be here soon. He just had to hold on long enough to get through it. He could fall apart later once the danger was over.

Dick opened his eyes and nodded at M'gann. The tugging sensation in his head wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as it had been yesterday, and the floating rectangle of his memory materialised more quickly. He was ready for it this time.

_"Maybe some more physical comedy will get this show rolling along." _Okay, so it started at about the same point as last time. That was okay; he could deal with that.

_The Joker pressed the edge of the crowbar against Robin's cheek. "You haven't sung for me yet, Birdie."_

"Dick?"

Dick flicked the rubber band against the underside of his wrist, while the memory-Joker dug the crowbar into Robin's shoulder on the screen. The pain bloomed in Dick's shoulderblade just like in the memory, but another sharp snap of the rubber band reminded him it wasn't real anymore.

A hand landed on his shoulder. "I'm here, babe." Wally had materialised in the mind link at last.

_"Ooh, didn't like that, did you? Tell me what hurts more: forehand…"_

**_Crack._** Now that one, Dick _really _felt. Wally's grip on his shoulder tightened to the point of pain.

"Not real, Dick. It's not real."

_"…or backhand?" __**Crack.**_

Dick snapped the rubber band again, but it was getting tricky to differentiate from the memory and the present.

"Hey…" Wally prodded him. "Let's talk about something. Tell me about… the circus. Your family. You were named after them, weren't you?"

"Yeah." Dick swallowed; memory-Joker's beatings were becoming more frenzied and it was hard to breathe, let alone think straight. "Richard after my uncle, John after my dad. My cousin John was named after them too, but in the opposite order."

"Tell me about your cousin," Wally prompted.

Dick had to take a few breaths before he could bring himself to speak again, at which point the memory-Joker had finally taken a break from beating Robin with the crowbar. "John was a few years older than me. We used to get in a lot of trouble around the circus—climbing into animal cages, practising at night while the adults were asleep, trying to juggle the sword-eater's swords—but John always got more blame for it than me, probably because he was older and meant to be setting an example." Dick, despite the situation, found himself smiling a little. "Dad knew what was up, though. If anything, _I _was the bad influence."

Wally snorted. "Of course you were."

"I had the circus wrapped around my finger," Dick continued, "so it wasn't often that I got into serious trouble, though John would find ways to make me suffer alongside him whenever he got punished, so we ended up shovelling a lot of animal dung together. We didn't fight much, though, and he always knew the right thing to say when I was upset. I was too young to do a lot of the dangerous stunts on the trapeze, but John would always just ruffle my hair and say, 'Don't worry squirt, you'll get a chance sooner than you think.' I never got that chance, since they all died before I was old enough to join them."

Wally's arm migrated to his opposite shoulder and the pulled the younger boy in close. "Yeah, that probably wasn't the best thing to get you to talk about when I'm trying to distract you from other bad stuff."

Dick shrugged. "It worked, didn't it?" He'd been distracted enough that he'd just missed the next round of beatings, actually.

_"Sorry, kid. I got a little… excited." The Joker patted Robin's cheek. "There, there. It's nearly over." He let out a small giggle. "Don't you worry about the Bat, now. I'll explain everything to him, in excruciating detail. Everything we said, every little sound you made, every drop of blood you were rude enough to spill on this lovely floor."_

"Bruce never really mentioned much about what went down between him and the Joker after I died," Dick said. "Aside from the fact that the Joker ended up in a body cast for six months."

"You sure you want to talk about that right now?" Wally said nervously. "Doesn't seem like it's going to help with the whole _not getting sucked in by evil memories _thing."

"The torture part of the memory's over," Dick replied. "The worst left is the explosion, and that's nothing in comparison to the rest, really. I was just thinking the Joker must've explained what he did to me in as much detail as he'd promised, to make B lose control like he did."

_"Well, kid, I'm off." The Joker started for the door. "Be a good boy, do your homework and be in bed by nine." Then he was gone._

Dick watched Robin crawling for the door, a little surprised to find he felt mostly okay. Wally kept him pressed close to his side, though.

"Should you be focusing on that?" he asked. "I mean, it's your memory, but you're _kinda_ making me nervous."

Dick shrugged. "Most of this is just me trying to get out of the room. It's not exactly pleasant, but compared to the rest it's downright cosy."

Wally entangled the fingers on his free hand with Dick's, pressing a kiss to his temple. "Okay, but… I don't know… try not to get too engrossed in it. We know how it's going to end, and I don't want you getting hurt."

Dick rested his head on Wally's shoulder, watching Robin give up on the door and notice the bomb. He had about twenty seconds to brace himself. He could do that. It was probably going to hurt a bit no matter what he did, but he hadn't fallen into the memory this time. He knew he wasn't there.

"I thought of you guys while I was watching the countdown," he said.

"Babe, you don't have to—"

"Wally, you were the last person I thought of," Dick interrupted, because it suddenly felt important to tell him.

"I—oh. Not Zatanna?"

"That's not a slight against her or anything. I did think about her, but you're my best friend, Wally. We've known each other for years. You were the only person on the Team who really _knew me_ back then." Dick squeezed their entwined hands together. The clock had almost finished counting.

_Three seconds left. Robin closed his eyes, resigned, and counted._

_2_

_1_

Dick braced against the feeling of heat, but it was fleeting, leaving him with a pounding heart but otherwise unharmed.

"Are you okay?" M'gann asked. Dick nodded. "I'm going to pull the other memory. Are you ready?"

"Give me a sec." Dick needed some time to slow down his heart again and reset himself mentally. He usually tried not to think about his resurrection, not that he could remember much. At best, he had flashes of burning and drowning and fighting and falling, but it was hard to solidify that into a concrete memory, even if he wanted to. That was exactly what M'gann was about to do, so he didn't have much choice in the matter.

"Hey," Wally whispered, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Dick shook his head clear. "Yeah?"

"Are you sure you're up to this?" Wally asked. "You look a little… shaky."

"I'll be fine." Dick rolled the rubber band on his wrist between his fingers. "I know I can do it now."

"Ready?" asked M'gann.

"Ready."

The tugging this time was weak. M'gann frowned, raising an arm to make a pulling motion.

"Trouble?" Wally asked.

"The memory's fragmented," M'gann replied, balling her hand into a fist and pulling harder. Dick felt it tug so hard in his brain that he nearly toppled sideways. "I'm having trouble getting a lock on it. Can you try and concentrate a little harder on the memory, Dick?"

"_Try_ being the key word." After years of trying to repress the fragments, pulling them out and ordering them again was proving to be a herculean task.

M'gann let out a gasp and the screen appeared. "The connection's shaky. Distracting yourself like you did with the last memory might break it."

An image appeared: everything was green. Dick's throat constricted like his oxygen supply had been cut off. Wally's hand squeezed his hard enough to hurt.

A human form was visible among the green, flailing to reach paler regions that promised air and light. Thirteen-year-old Dick's bandage-covered face broke the surface of the water, and he screamed and tore at the bandages, releasing his face and dripping hair. He screamed until he ran out of oxygen, took in another breath and screamed again.

The impact of his butt on the floor pulled Dick away from the memory. Wally had grabbed him under the armpits a little too late to stop him from falling outright. At the same time the memory played in third-person on the screen, it was swirling inside Dick's head in first-person. Dick focused harder on the screen, trying to ignore how the incongruity was making his stomach turn just as badly as the memory itself.

Memory-Dick waded to the edge of the Pit, still screaming, and lashed out at the man who had moved to subdue him. He went down, and Dick lunged for the next and took him down as well.

"Well, you're efficient, I'll give you that," Wally said in a small voice.

"Don't make me hit you too," Dick snapped.

Memory-Dick glanced up at Ra's and Talia al Ghul, who were standing above the room on a stone ledge, before veering sharply in the opposite direction. He shoved his thumbs into another attacker's eyes and dashed for the nearest window. A bullet whizzed by his head, courtesy of Talia, who had only missed because Ra's grabbed her arm at the last moment.

Wally whistled. "Close one."

"Shush."

Memory-Dick leapt out the window, and the memory dissolved.

"Uhhh, what just happened?" said Wally.

"I jumped out a window."

M'gann groaned, gripping the sides of her head. "That's all I could piece together. I'm sorry."

"Was it enough?" asked Dick.

"I… think so." M'gann rubbed her temples, grimacing. "I couldn't find any hint that you've been reprogrammed. Your mind in that memory was… scattered… but it seemed to be your own."

Dick let Wally help him up. "That's all we needed, M'gann. Thank you. Are you okay?"

M'gann gave him a weak smile. "I will be. Don't worry about me. It… felt like you didn't have any memories of before your death while you were in that place."

"I found a place to rest after I escaped, and things started coming back to me," Dick replied. "The first thing I remembered was the Joker's laugh, which led to me remembering getting murdered, which then helped me figure everything else out. It wasn't pleasant, but it worked."

"That must've been terrible. Are _you_ okay?"

Dick shrugged. "I'm dealing."

"That's not the same as being okay, Dick."

"I know. Are you ready to get us out?"

"I… yes. I'm ready."

* * *

The first thing Dick witnessed upon mentally returning to Black Canary's office was Wally squawking and falling off the arm of Dick's chair. That probably hadn't been the best place to be when going into a mind link.

"You alive, Wally?"

Wally glared at him from his new spot on the floor. "Yeah, yeah, no thanks to you."

"Did you get what you needed?" Black Canary asked.

M'gann nodded. "The Light hasn't tampered with Dick's head. His mind is… different… but that's because of what he went through."

"The Lazarus Pit may have helped that along a little," Dick added. His psychological situation was old news now. No point playing it down when M'gann had just felt all that in his head anyway.

"You've gotten better, though," Wally was quick to point out.

Dick snorted. "You say that like it's some great achievement."

"Because it is, Dick," Black Canary chimed in.

Dick smirked. "You're my therapist. You have to say that."

"No, I don't."

"Just messing with you, BC." Dick glanced down at Wally. "Are you planning on getting up, or are you having too much fun down there?" He noticed Wally's smirk, and the vibrations rolling off his body. "Don't—augh!" Now he had a lapful of Wally. "Hey, Walls, I'm flattered, but not while people are watching, kay?"

Wally poked his forehead and rolled off him, squeezing himself into the chair and squishing Dick against the armrest. "Better?"

"You're a pain in the ass, West."

"You love it."

M'gann laughed at them. "I missed you so much, Dick."

"I'm a beautiful ray of sunshine."

Wally's cough sounded suspiciously like _loser_, though it got a little garbled on the end when Dick elbowed him right in the stomach. "Owww!"

"Ooh, sorry. Needed to stretch."

"_I hate you so much_."

"He doesn't mean that," Dick said in a stage-whisper. M'gann laughed again.

"All right," said Black Canary, "That's quite enough out of you two. If you don't need to talk about what happened in the mind link, go home. Please."

"I'm… pretty okay with what happened," said Dick. "I think. I need some time to process the Lazarus memory. M'gann pieced it together for me, but I don't know how I feel about it yet."

"Let me know when you're ready to talk about it," Black Canary told him, opening the door. "Now go get some rest. You too, M'gann."

"Bats is probably brooding in the cave waiting for you," Wally said, pulling Dick up as he stood.

"Yeah, he does that."

M'gann floated past them. "Will you visit tomorrow?"

"Sure," Dick replied, though M'gann was already out of sight. "See you then."

"All right," said Wally, "let's get you home. You look like you could use a sandwich."

"I was gonna ask if you always think with your stomach, but I already know the answer to that." Dick waved at Black Canary and the Martian Manhunter. "See you guys later."

"You're such a jerk," Wally said, shoving him out the door.

* * *

Bruce was fairly easy to get rid of, since Jason needed help with homework. After a few sandwiches at Wally's insistence, Dick fell into bed. As much as he could always use more sleep these days, however, it would've been nice if he hadn't dreamt about drowning. And burning. No matter how much he kicked and thrashed, he could never break the surface of the green water.

He woke, gasping for air and flailing to escape from the bedcovers that had entangled themselves around his legs.

"Hey. Hey." An arm snaked around Dick's torso. "I've got you." Wally's palm pressed against Dick's chest, a warm and comforting weight. Biting down on the pillow, Dick tried to relax. He wasn't drowning. He was in bed. The bedcovers, as constraining as they currently were, posed no danger to him.

Now, if he'd just stop hyperventilating.

Wally's palm pressed harder against Dick's chest. "Babe, you're safe. You're at home. I'm here. Come on, take a breath. Okay, let it out. Slowly. Good. Keep doing that."

Dick pressed his forehead against the spot he'd just been biting, taking another breath and letting it out as slowly as he could.

"I think," he breathed as he slowly pulled his trapped legs out of the covers, "I'm scared of drowning."

"That's logical. What took you so long to work that out?"

Dick shrugged; he wasn't panicking anymore, but now he had a headache and there was bile in his throat. "Didn't like thinking about the Pit. And it wasn't like I was going swimming when I had other shit to do."

"Okay." Wally cuddled up to Dick, pulling him back to slot together like two pieces in a jigsaw puzzle. "How bad do you think it is? You seemed fine during the Croc mission."

"Dunno." Dick wriggled to take pressure off his shoulder. "I'll mention it to Bruce, just in case. I don't want to be a liability on a mission. Knowing him, though, he'll probably throw me into the pool to see if I can deal with it."

"He wouldn't do that," Wally replied. "The guy can be creepily pragmatic, but he's got to know doing that would do more harm than good."

"Okay, he wouldn't throw me in. He'd tell me to jump in myself." Dick rubbed an ache above his eyebrow. "Ugh, I need some painkillers or I'm not gonna get back to sleep."

"I'll get some." Wally crawled out of bed and sped out of the room. Dick sprawled out on his back while he waited. While he sometimes had nightmares about the Pit, they were usually vague and jumbled. While unpleasant, they rarely elicited a panic reaction like his Joker dreams did. As disconcerting as it had been to not have a clear idea of what happened upon his resurrection, he kind of wished he hadn't found out.

Dick's stomach rolled ominously. He made it to the bathroom, but not to the toilet or sink, before he threw up all over the floor. He collapsed against the wall, staring at the puddle of sick, until Wally came back.

"Dick?"

"Here."

Wally's head appeared around the corner. "What are you… wait. Light." He switched the light on, throwing the scene into nauseatingly sharp relief. "Oh. I'll… get Alfred." He passed the packet of pills and a glass of water before disappearing again.

Dick choked down two pills and drained the glass to the last drop. He felt slightly more human afterwards. At least he hadn't thrown up on himself.

Wally returned with Alfred, who directed him to put Dick to bed while he cleaned up the mess.

"Do you think you'll throw up again?" Wally asked, draping the bedcovers over the younger boy. Dick shook his head. Wally hovered over him, stroking his hair, until Alfred finished cleaning and came to check on them.

Alfred felt Dick's forehead. "Are you ill, sir?"

Dick shook his head again.

"He had a nightmare and a panic attack," Wally explained. "He said he needed some painkillers afterwards so I went and got him some and that's when he threw up."

"Where are you in pain, Master Dick?"

"Head." Dick buried his face in the pillow.

"I think he's just tired now," said Wally. "I'll keep an eye on him."

"Come to me if he gets worse," Alfred said. "That aside, we'll see how you feel in the morning, Master Dick. Goodnight." He left them to sleep.

Wally climbed back into bed. "Do you think you'll get back to sleep?"

"I don't know." Dick's voice was muffled by the pillow. "I'm tired, but that doesn't mean anything anymore."

Wally wriggled closer. "Cuddles?"

"I smell like puke."

"You've smelt worse. You can either quit whining and come here anyway, or go do something about it."

Dick smacked him and went to brush his teeth. Wally was lying spread-eagled on the bed upon his return. Dick flopped down on top of him, earning an _oof_ from the older boy. He cackled and wriggled into a more comfortable position.

"So, this is how we're sleeping?"

"Shh."

"You're pretty heavy for a guy who just lost his dinner all over the floor."

"You're pretty chatty for a pillow."

"I'm the best pillow."

"And why's that?"

"Because I cuddle back!" Wally flipped Dick onto his back and wrapped his arms around him tightly.

"Dude!" Dick's complaint dissolved into laughter as Wally blew a raspberry into his neck. He retaliated by wiggling his fingers into Wally's ticklish underarm, which made the older boy squawk. A bang on the door shut them up.

"That was probably Jason," Dick whispered. "Sorry Jason!" He'd briefly forgotten his brother slept just across the hallway. Oops.

"You're the worst big brother ever," said Wally.

Dick rolled his eyes. "He probably thought we were having sex."

"But you're underage."

"Eh, in the state of New Jersey there's a four-year age gap exception for under-sixteens as long as they're thirteen or older." Dick rolled onto his side and backed up to become the little spoon again. "Trust me, I checked."

"Of course you did."

"But Missouri doesn't have any exceptions like that and the age of consent over there is seventeen, so no sexytimes in Central City for a couple years, I guess."

"Do you know the consent laws for every state in the country?"

"Only the relevant ones. Rhode Island has a two-year age gap exception for fourteen and fifteen-year-olds so we'd be in the clear there until you turn eighteen, then we'd have to wait until my birthday."

"Oh, no. How will we survive?"

Dick muffled his laughter into the pillow. "It's all irrelevant right anyway. Nothing's going to happen for a long time."

"Of course, babe." Wally kissed his cheek. "We can wait as long as you want."

"Damn straight. Now shut up and let me try to sleep."


End file.
